You are not the Hunter
by Terenin Amatiril
Summary: In EVE, war and conflict inevitably finds everyone. Once upon a time, an industrialist prepared for the occasion.


****Authors note****

This is a piece of a short story I worked out the essentials for years ago, but never wrote. I have done some changes to it's sequence of events and written it in a stand-alone, new manner I felt like trying out. Written in a couple short hours, years ago. It might be okay, it might be terrible, I will let you folks decide, now that I've put it on FF. and not just the lore site for EVE I left it on in 2013. Obviously, you need to be familiar with EVE's game-mechanics to fully understand the context of what is done here, but I am hoping the formatting helps clarify the essence of the piece in a more universal manner. Let me know what you think of it.

* * *

The warp-tunnel expanded and came into being before her, with it's usual thundering sound, accompanied by the ever familiar **"warp drive active"** from Aura, the ship-board A.I.

 _Life-support engaged. Oxygen pumps at full capacity. Gravity generator active. Fusion reactor online. Oscillator Capacitor Units powering up, ten percent and rising._

Closing with the Matari station before her, deep in the Republic's heart - in Pator itself - she could not help but be exited, and terrified at the same time. The status-updates relayed directly to her capsule from her crew intensified these feelings, despite the fact she knew this would inevitably happen one day. She had after all, prepared.

 _Capacitors powering, thirty-six percent and rising. Ion Engines online. Pulse Shield Emitters active. Magnetometric Sensor Clusters online. Scanners online. Camera drone magazine loaded, camera drone launcher ready._

Dock-Control cleared her request and her ship was magnetically towed inside the massive station, then sent on the controlled, ever-familiar path in and down to be secured inside her personal hanger. The behemoth of a structure was hundreds of kilometers in diameter, and yet her industrial was whisked away into it's depths inside of minutes. The wonders of modern logistics technology in action did nothing to diminish her sense of foreboding.

 _Capacitors powering, sixty percent and rising. Energized resistance plating online and powered. Combat drone hanger online and ready for launch._

A ten-man crew, four of them android-operators, scrambled to prepare one of her newest ships for her arrival, and imminent action. Of course, they could only do so much without her onboard, but with her Exhumer arriving in hangar, it would only be a few moment now.

 _Capacitors powering, eighty-four percent and rising. Damage control online. After-burner online. Warp-Disruption generator online._

This was it. The very first time she would do battle, intentionally and aggressively. Exciting. With a click and a hiss, the capsule detached from it's connections inside her familiar Exhumer, drifting out of the industrial vessel's gentle embrace.

 _Capacitors ready, steady at ninety-eight point three percent. Stasis webification battery online. Railgun batteries one-through-three online._

In her agitated state, the few moments of isolation from the world outside the capsule felt like an eternity. No internal or external sensors, no camera-drones, no free control. Her capsule would not transmit anything unless it was set to stand-alone flight, and in the transition between her ships, this was not enabled.

 _"Isonami" ready, all systems optimal. Awaiting pilot integration._

Moments like these, passing between ships without anything to look at but the dark, gloomy interior of her hydrostatic capsule, always reminded her that, though she may technically be Post-Human at this stage, she was still merely a privileged woman with a job. It was earned, but not only on her own merits, and it could be lost, easily. She had always valued those who reminded her of this fact, such as her brother, and always pitied those among her fellow Capsuleers who forgot this. People like her self-declared enemy, waiting for her in the asteroid-belt even now. He had stolen from her, hoping that by acquiring CONCORD's criminal flagging on himself, the hapless industrial ship he stole from would retaliate instantly. After all, she only had 15 minutes to do so. It would not go as he had hoped.

 _Capsule integration commencing, secure seals ready, awaiting mind/ship link._

With another click and hiss, her capsule secured itself inside her Incursus-class Frigate and she was assaulted by the sudden wealth of sensory-information. A considerably smaller vessel than her Hulk-class Exhumer, but the most powerful warship she could muster at this point.

 _Mind/ship link established. Capsule integration complete, security seals active, entry hatch sealed. Pilot control optimal._

True, it was a down-graded civilian version and not military-grade hardware like, say, a Federation Navy Comet, but it would do. She was a capsuleer in an Incursus, and as such she was more lethal than a well-trained non-capsuleer crew flying the newest and greatest.

 _Docking control, Incursus-class "Isonami" requesting permission to undock._

Her only problem was, out there was another Capsuleer, just like her.

 _Permission granted._

His problem was, she was not going to fight him in an industrial like he hoped, and she had 5 more minutes to go. More than ample time. The anticipation was palpable all the way through her hull and to the very tips of her railguns. Her tiny frigate exited the maw of the massive station and aligned itself with her target coordinates.

 _Warp drive. Target: Jettison container "Arivana one-eight-zero-five" at ten kilometers._

The warp-tunnel expanded and came into being before her, with it's usual thundering sound, accompanied by the ever familiar **"warp drive active"** from Aura.


End file.
